The Unwanted Earl (24 page)

They circled the outside of the ballroom floor and came back to where they had started. There sat Conrad between two older women, each one apparently intent upon gaining his attention for conversation. His eyes were wide as he stared first at one hat and then the other. As the women babbled over each other, their heads nodded up and down. Birds and feathers flapped and shook.

Poor Conrad.

A noise drew her attention back to Lord Griffith. His wheeze sounded as if death was imminent. “My lord, do you need to sit down?”

“
Don’t be preposterous. What fool would sit down in the middle of a ballroom floor?”

“
No… I meant, did you need perhaps to take a seat along the wall?”

“
Not on your life, dearie.”

She clenched her jaw tight, trying to hold in a curse at his pet name for her.

He leaned closer, his putrid breath nearly knocking her over. “I have you for this dance, and I’m not stopping until the music does.”

“
Why is it so important for you to dance with me? It’s obvious you’re not enjoying the endeavor.”

“
Since you and I are to be married—”

She held up a hand.
“
Pardon
?”
 

“
You just interrupted an
earl
in mid-speech.” His voice rose on the last word.

She no longer cared what he told people. “You’re quite right. I did in fact interrupt you. And I’ll do it again if given a chance.”
There. Take that and try to chew on it with your two remaining teeth.
 

“
You impertinent girl.”

She shrugged. “Be that as it may…”

“
Maybe I need to rethink our nuptials and try to find someone with more class.”

“
I’m not going to marry you anyway. I’m already betrothed to another.”

“
Pish.”

“
Did you or did you not have a conversation with my father about this very thing?”

“
Hmm. It seems I did speak to him recently. Now what was it we discussed?” He shrugged. “Oh well, no matter. Surely it couldn’t have been of importance if I can’t bring to mind the detail.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. The old goat had forgotten what her father had said? “Lord Griffith, my father assured me that he’d spoken to you about my betrothal. To
another
. In light of that, my lord, I suggest you
stop
speaking of marrying
me
.”

“
Do
not
tell me what to do.”

“
I believe that’s exactly what I’ve done. And I’m
not
sorry.”

“
Of all the… well!” He dropped her hand and stomped away, leaving her standing alone in the midst of swirling couples. She cared not. Grinning, she maneuvered around the dancers, some who nearly collided with each other as they gawked at her.

Conrad’s mouth hung open. He snapped it shut and stood as soon as she reached him. The two hat women continued to talk to the empty chair as if Conrad still sat between them. The way their voices squawked, they actually did sound a lot like a couple of birds conversing on a tree branch.

Amelia bit her lip and waited for his reaction. Surely he would be mortified for himself as well as her at the way she’d acted and at the reactions of those around her. The entire time she’d walked across the dance floor, others had pointed and whispered.

Conrad placed his hand on her elbow. “Did something happen to Lord Griffith? I saw you standing alone.”

“
I certainly hope so.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“
You
hope
something happened to him?”

“
That’s about the size of it, yes.” She tapped the toe of her slipper. The thought of what he’d said to her about spending the evening with him… She huffed out a breath.

“
But… why?”

“
Why, what?”

“
You’d said you’d hope something happened to him.”

“
Oh. That.”

“
Yes. That.”

“
Because he’s a horrid creature.”

Nearby conversations halted. Suddenly, it seemed the whole room was listening.

With a look right and then left, she lowered her voice. “Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere less public?”

He nodded. Amelia took his offered arm and they walked out into the hall. Several other people were about, so she wasn’t worried about not having a chaperone. “Let’s sit over here.” She pointed at an empty bench and they sat down. “I’m afraid there’s something I neglected to tell you.”

“
And that would be…”

“
Lord Griffith was under the impression that he and I…”

“
You and he…?” He held his hand out as he waited for her to finish.

“
That he… that we…”

Conrad laughed. “Surely not.”

She smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her knees. “I’m afraid so.”

“
And why, pray tell, would he think that? The man has to be in his seventies.”

“
Eighty.”

“
My point exactly.”

“
He… well…” She glanced away. “It’s entirely possible that a few months ago he and my father had a conversation. About me.”

“
I see.”

“
And in that conversation, certain possibilities were discussed.” She turned but couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“
As in, I’m assuming, money changing hands.”

“
Yes.”

“
I see.”

She frowned. “Please stop saying ‘I see’.”

“
What do you wish me to say?
Hooray
that you were supposed to marry someone else? An octogenarian?”

“
No… But, what are your thoughts?”

“
I don’t follow.”

“
With someone else asking for my hand, and the way in which we… The particular way our betrothal came about… Is there any way… that is, do you still wish to…?”

“
Are you asking if I’ll try to find a way to not marry you under the present circumstances?”

She nodded.

He glanced down and sighed.

He was actually considering it.

Conrad crossed his arms and shook his head. “I’m so sorry it had to come to this, Miss Talbot.”

Miss Talbot?
“But…”

“
You see, while, of course, I wasn’t the least bit thrilled with… how our betrothal first happened, I had come to be… fond of you.” He turned his head away.

Not
thrilled…
Had
become fond… implying he was no longer fond? That wasn’t good. Not good in the least. She grabbed his arm. “Lord Lofton.” She whispered, “Conrad, please…
please
reconsider…”

His shoulders shook. Was he crying? She gripped his arm more tightly. Oh no, she’d made him weep. Now she felt even worse than before.

When he turned back, though, a smile had replaced the tears. The man was laughing. At
her!
 

“
Oh!”

“
Something amiss?”

“
I-I-I—”

“
Is that so?”

She huffed out a breath.
How rude!
“You insufferable…”

“
Yes, go on.”

“
You’re a pompous…”

“
This is fascinating. Please continue.”

“
Well… I… you’re as mean as a… a…
goose
.
” She jumped from the bench, turned on her heel and stomped away, back into the ballroom. The room was noticeably warmer than the hall had been.

Of all the nerve
. Treating her as a plaything, having sport with her affections. Wreaking havoc with her emotions. How dare he just…?

She stopped suddenly, nearly bumping into a short stubby man in a tall skinny hat. She curtseyed and excused herself as he grumbled something and stepped around her.

Conrad had every right and more to tease her and make her think he’d not go through with the marriage. She’d blackmailed the poor man, for heaven’s sake. Amelia pivoted and nearly ran into the same little man again. Why was he always in her way?

“
Have a care!” He righted his hat, which had been knocked askew.

“
A million pardons again, sir.” She hurried across the ballroom, barely missing being tangled in others’ slippers and boots as they danced.

When she reached the doorway to the hall, she slowed and then stopped. Pressing her hand to her midsection, she took a deep, calming breath.
You can do this, Amelia
.
Do whatever you have to, to keep Conrad. He’s worth
everything.
 

She took one step then another, until she reached Conrad, who still sat where she’d left him.

He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes sparkling with merriment. The corners of his mouth curled up. “As mean as a goose?”

She grimaced. “Please forgive me. I realize that with your aversion to anything avian, making any reference of one in relation to you was quite off-putting.”

“
On the contrary, I found it imaginative and amusing.”

She plopped down next to him. “You did?”

“
Why, yes.”

“
So… you’re not upset?”

“
Do I
appear
to be upset?”

“
Well, no. But are you of a mind to… call off our agreement?”

He reached across the small space between them and placed his finger beneath her chin. “Amelia. Look at me.”

She raised her gaze to his, staring at those ice-blue eyes… eyes that both entranced and enchanted her. “Yes?”

“
I am not letting you go. Are we clear?”

Relief swept through her, but she couldn’t imagine any coherent words coming from her mouth. So she simply nodded.

The day was
clear and crisp. Birds darted among tree branches as Conrad stepped cautiously down the walk at the Bird Sanctuary, hoping to avoid dirt, bird droppings, or anything else disgusting. Of all places, of all the locations in London, why did his betrothed insist on having the wedding reception outdoors?
Here?
When her mother said that the wedding had already been planned, she’d only been partially truthful. Amelia would get a say in the reception, at least.

The wedding, of course, would be a simple ceremony with immediate family in attendance.
I only wish my whole family could be there. But others would not understand if Andrew and Cecilia were in attendance. Someday, I plan to change that. If it’s in my power, I will better their livelihood and station.
 

Amelia tugged on Conrad’s arm. By now, he’d grown used to her habit of doing that, so he paid close attention to his balance as she did so. Falling was embarrassing enough. But falling in front of his mother, mother-in-law, and Lucy and Oliver would have been mortification times ten.

Behind Conrad, his mother grumbled something about vile creatures. Since this was her first visit to the Sanctuary, she was in for some unpleasant surprises as he had been. Hopefully, she would not be bombed by bird droppings, as had been his unfortunate experience.

Even
she
didn’t deserve that.

Well…

Amelia pointed up. “Look at that.”

Wonderful. I’m assuming it’s yet another bird. I hope I won’t be sorry…
He slowly leaned his head back. And squinted.
Oh no… It’s not possible…
 

A common cuckoo looked down at their group and made eye contact. With him. It flapped its wings and squawked loudly, looking as if it performed a song and dance on a stage.

The bird left its perch, flew in a tight circle and dove toward them. Or rather, toward Conrad.
This can’t
be happening. Not again
. Conrad closed his eyes and prayed that the bird would ignore him. When nothing happened, he dared to open his eyes. With a sigh, he relaxed.
Ah… I must have gotten lucky this time.
 

Everyone in their party stared at Conrad. Actually, his
hat
. He swallowed. “Why are you all…?” Did his hat sit askew? He despised when that occurred.

Amelia giggled and then slapped her hand over her mouth.

Lucy smiled as well. “It seems you have a…
visitor.
”
 

Oh dear… So that means the bird is…

Oliver bit his lip against a smile, but his eyes held merriment. “Here, Lofton, allow me to assist you. Crouch down a little, would you?”

Aghast at something having taken up residence on his hat and having to crouch down near the ground, Conrad nevertheless did what was asked. His knobby knees were nearly in contact with the path.
Please hurry…
 

Oliver stepped forward and reached out. “Here now, little cuckoo, let’s not bother the good earl.”

Good
earl? Conrad lifted one corner of his mouth. Who would have ever thought someone would say that about him? And especially Oliver? Conrad’s hat shifted slightly as Oliver gave it slight pressure from the top. Another bird squawk followed and Conrad braced himself to be covered in bird droppings.
I should have brought more than one handkerchief today. From my past experience, I might have known better.
 

Oh the nightmares he’d had since the first time it happened. The cuckoo squawking at him, diving at his head, dropping its vile substance on Conrad’s hat, coat, boots and face.
In my mouth…
He shuddered.

“
There. All set.” Oliver stepped away.

“
Is it… Am I… Um, my hat?”

Amelia laughed and took his arm, helping him to stand. “Everything is fine and the bird flew away. You and your hat have come out unscathed. Why did you look so worried?”